


One Night And One More Time

by ellies_words



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Bert is the bad guy, Cutting, M/M, POV First Person, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Tour Fic, this is really old
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 05:11:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellies_words/pseuds/ellies_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Think ~2007 MCR.<br/>They're on tour. Gerard never stopped self harming, and while everyone's looking the other way, Frank is getting sick of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night And One More Time

The beauty of the red lines that trace up and down the length of my arms seems to be dulled tonight. I can’t identify any emotion swirling within me. I feel numb, disconnected from the world. Cutting doesn’t hold the allure it did only minutes before, and I don’t know how to cope with this new non-sensation that is crawling through my veins, speedily killing every last drop of life that is left in my body. 

 

I had known that they knew, quite soon after I started. It was obvious. Wearing long sleeves may have hidden the scars and the cuts, but it didn’t hide the thoughts, the shadows under my eyes, and the razors that had taken up permanent residency in my pockets. They never said anything though. Never mentioned it once. Everyone found it easier to simply pretend that I hadn’t, once again, spiralled downwards. I’m not sure that I was glad of that or not. In some ways it made it easier, being allowed to pretend that it wasn’t happening, but at other times, I would feel as though my throat was burning from all the silent screams for help that I made. The ones no one would pay attention to. 

What made it worse was knowing that I was a hypocrite. Having to sit there and give answers in interviews, stating that self-harm never helped, that we encouraged kids to find other ways to let out their frustrations; and yet, I couldn’t go without bleeding for more than two days. Every time I was approached by one of fans, whenever one drew me aside to quietly say thank you, I could feel the ropes that held me together fraying a little more. Here were teenagers who believed I held the answer to their problems, when I was more embroiled in the same problems than they would ever know. 

But then, slowly, as always happens, people began to stop worrying. I had fully recovered from drugs and alcohol, so everyone assumed I was cleaning up my whole act. Mikey had his series of breakdowns at the Paramour House, and god I sound so detached when I say that, but I couldn’t face what was happening. I would leave him alone, isolate myself for hours, simply cutting, having no other release. It still stings to know that when Mikey really needed me, I was once again too selfishly absorbed in my own little “problems” to be able to help my closest friend and brother. And then Frank got sick, and we had to play Australia, and then Europe without our rhythm guitarist. 

And I was fine because I didn’t need any help. I was fine, sitting in the bathroom every night, crying and cutting, or simply drinking in the sight of the scars on my supposedly unblemished skin. And then Frankie came back, and he hadn’t been there to watch me sink lower and lower, and so he just knew, in the way that only Frankie could, that I hadn’t stopped. He actually probably didn’t know much at all. But he let me speak, and he got me talking, and after so long of having no one seem to care, I was happy to unburden myself. Happy to believe for a short time that somebody did care. 

 

I sit curled on the bathroom floor, my mind screaming for release. With no other answer, I take a deep breath and drag the razor across my skin again.

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this fic way back in 2007 under whitechinadoll on livejournal. I was going to rewrite it but it's a little difficult seeing how my writing style has changed. I figured I'd leave it and post it while I start writing some new stuff. It was originally unfinished and abandoned, but I will be writing an ending for it this time. Small bits will be edited.


End file.
